


Stabs

by Ealasaid



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-21
Updated: 2012-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-29 21:30:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/324361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ealasaid/pseuds/Ealasaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Droog is unimpressed by Slick's interrogation methods. (The guy tied to the chair is of much the same opinion.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stabs

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Fisticuffs](https://archiveofourown.org/works/278255) by [Ealasaid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ealasaid/pseuds/Ealasaid). 



Slick paced the tiny room impatiently, slapping a blade into the palm of his hand. “So what,” he said, jitteringly irritated, “were ya doin’ snoopin’ around the warehouses, huh?”

The little police-force detective tied to the chair whimpered. “Nothing,” he answered shakily, and trembled when Slick spun slowly on one heel with an evil look pinning the guy to the floor. It took a second after Slick had sunk the knife from eight feet into the guy’s shoulder for him to scream.

Slick stalked forward and yanked the knife out viciously, ignoring the high-velocity blood splatter that landed on his clothes. “Shuttup,” he snarled, and backhanded the guy. “You’re not gonna be wanderin’ around some warehouses for a reason like ‘nothing,’ now are ya?”

The detective looked up tearfully. It was not the first stabbing he had experienced that night. “Nothing,” he repeated. “I wasn’t doing anything out there it’s just my beat I _swear—_ ”

Slick interrupted him by briskly smacking the pommel of the knife on the crown of his head. “An actual answer, please?” he sneered testily. “You’re not gonna get too many more chances, just sayin’.”

Blinking, the man opened his mouth to say something, but started screaming instead when Slick stabbed him again out of spite.

“STOP FUCKING SCREAMING!” he shrieked at the wailing detective. “SCREAMING DOES NOT STOP THE KNIFE!”

From the corner where he’d been sitting, Droog disinterestedly turned a page in the newspaper he was reading. “It’s more fun when they scream,” he said absently, scanning an editorial.

Slick glared at him. “You’re not helping,” he hissed. “We’re _tryin’’_ ta get information!”

“Yes, because that’s working so well.”

“Oh shut _up_ ,” Slick complained.

“We can try again tomorrow,” Droog offered, sounding amused. “Or the next day. He might have learned by then.”

Grudgingly, Slick jerked the knife out of the sobbing sneak. “I suppose,” he muttered, scowling. He kicked the chair, knocking it over. Their captive shook on the floor.

“Stay there,” he hissed. “You move, you _die_.” He whirled and glared at Droog. “Coming or staying?”

“You’re giving up?” Droog looked over the top of his newspaper blandly.

“ _No_ , I’m takin’ a break,” Slick snapped. “If you wanna go, be my guest.” He stalked out, the door shutting ominously behind him.

Droog calmly folded his newspaper and leisurely stood up. He smiled politely at the man on the floor.  
   
“Allow me to introduce myself...”


End file.
